Tits on a Crumpet, Dok

[Roaring Biscuit!]

And Holy Guacamole.

Have you seen this place?  It's so white.  I mean, of course I tried painting it, but the stuff just runs off onto the floor.  Then they heat so its all sticky, and I can't even move my feet off the ground.  I think there's something in the air too, sometimes I don't want to move my feet off the ground.  It's just so much effort getting out of my seat.  I could be watching nothing happening, happily.

But I want to see colours again.  I want to lie down in the green grass and look at the blue sky.  But even outside everything is white.  Even the people are white.  Even the black people are white.  All the beautiful colours were siphoned right out of their skin... and clothes... and eyes.  I miss their eyes.  I want Hugh and Sa'Tu-racion.  Where did they go?  Nothing clashes in a White World.  I miss the contrasts, my eyes are getting bored...  and so tired... so tired...

But what really gets me?  It's that...  god...  they painted over their feelings.  They don't feel anything.  You can stab one right in their white chest, with a white knife, and watch the white blood pour all over your hands.  Their white faces just look up at you, their white lips tremble and they smile a white smile.  The whitest smile you'll ever see.

I don't think I have much time.  Too much time spent dwawdling, ignoring what has been happening all along.  But I can see, of course its obvious, when you wake up naked, with white paint on your hands, in white sheets, in a white room.  I want to roll in the mud like a petulant child, weak I know, but I can't just sit and watch.

I don't want to wake up and look in the mirror to see nothing looking back.

I know what I'm supposed to do, they tell me every day, what one should do, what is best, what is good for your well-being.  Brush your teeth, eat your whites, and remember, the most important thing in life is to always put on your best smile.

[Doktor Howl]

When I smile, people back away.  Haven't figured that out yet, and it puzzles me, for I am a charming man.

Perhaps it's my complexion.  It's far too ruddy for public decency, these days, and only gets worse when I get all agitated and stomp around puking blood and shitting awful Indian food that - along with about 30 other ethnic flavors - has replaced Jack in the Box and McDonalds in my diet.

Ever shit vindaloo, RB?  It's an experience, and it will color up the washed out complexions of the poor bastards who happen to be in the men's room when you drop the bomb.

[President Television]

Indian food is great and so are the bowel movements that come with it.

[Doktor Howl]

Indian food is great and so are the bowel movements that come with it.

My ass has a range of 30 feet.

I shit you not.

That'll teach the pasty-faced bastards a trick or two.

[Nast]

Indian food is great and so are the bowel movements that come with it.

My ass has a range of 30 feet.

I shit you not.

That'll teach the pasty-faced bastards a trick or two.

It'll teach them to dive out of the way next time.

[LMNO]

And Holy Guacamole.

Have you seen this place?  It's so white.  I mean, of course I tried painting it, but the stuff just runs off onto the floor.  Then they heat so its all sticky, and I can't even move my feet off the ground.  I think there's something in the air too, sometimes I don't want to move my feet off the ground.  It's just so much effort getting out of my seat.  I could be watching nothing happening, happily.

But I want to see colours again.  I want to lie down in the green grass and look at the blue sky.  But even outside everything is white.  Even the people are white.  Even the black people are white.  All the beautiful colours were siphoned right out of their skin... and clothes... and eyes.  I miss their eyes.  I want Hugh and Sa'Tu-racion.  Where did they go?  Nothing clashes in a White World.  I miss the contrasts, my eyes are getting bored...  and so tired... so tired...

But what really gets me?  It's that...  god...  they painted over their feelings.  They don't feel anything.  You can stab one right in their white chest, with a white knife, and watch the white blood pour all over your hands.  Their white faces just look up at you, their white lips tremble and they smile a white smile.  The whitest smile you'll ever see.

I don't think I have much time.  Too much time spent dwawdling, ignoring what has been happening all along.  But I can see, of course its obvious, when you wake up naked, with white paint on your hands, in white sheets, in a white room.  I want to roll in the mud like a petulant child, weak I know, but I can't just sit and watch.

I don't want to wake up and look in the mirror to see nothing looking back.

I know what I'm supposed to do, they tell me every day, what one should do, what is best, what is good for your well-being.  Brush your teeth, eat your whites, and remember, the most important thing in life is to always put on your best smile.

Of course, now that I know what your voice sounds like, it's even better imagining you reading this out loud.